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The Children of Chaos, of the Primal Mother
Jung: My deep interior is a volcano that pushes out the fiery molten mass of the unformed and the undifferentiated. He who enters the crater also becomes chaotic matter. So just feeling Jung's as if you can imagine kind of the ego sense or the hero sense letting himself sink into these depths. That's the center of the cross. And again, just that feeling of Kali, that oof, that essence of everything there.